


Bolts and Screws

by reaping_mae



Series: Watched [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of 'Alone', Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, cause fuck sexism lmao, correction: we die like women, no beta we die like men, possibly a tad ooc my bad, so pls read Alone first if you want this to make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaping_mae/pseuds/reaping_mae
Summary: Peter finally goes back to the compound after the 'incident', but something still feels wrong.Part two of 'Alone'
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Watched [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088921
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Bolts and Screws

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> Thank you so much for the support on Alone, it really means a lot :)  
> I kind of hyperfocused on writing this part two and ignored all of my hw to do it, so sorry if this feels a little ooc or is written weird. It also is very short, but this is just the beginning to a whole fic I have begun planning. I originally was going to make this a '5 Things', but then I got distracted and found one of my favorite fics (a chatfic) and reread it and now i feel like writing a chatfic. i just need some light-heartedness and memes to the beginning of the year, but dw bc i definitely WILL have plot in it lol. also chatfics are just easier to balance school with.  
> ANYWAY  
> Happy reading!

“Merry Christmas, Pete!” Tony Stark exclaimed, the electric blue hologram in front of him shrinking to power off. 

“Mr. Stark, it’s December 26.” Peter laughed.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I didn’t get to wish you an in-person happy Christmas though so this is going to have to make up for it.”

Peter smiled and shook his head, walking fully into Stark’s lab and shedding his backpack on a chair. He then turned to hug Tony, his arms easily snaking around his mentor’s torso and pressing his face to Tony’s chest. Peter received a hesitant pat on the back. Tony never had been one for hugs, but Peter liked to think that he would soon be an exception. “Merry Christmas,” He sighed.

“Hey,” Tony gently pried Peter off of him, “You wouldn’t happen to know, by chance, where one of the kitchen knives went? Pepper has been bugging me about it.” 

Peter froze, his mind working to come up with a lie.

“Eh, nevermind. It’s a weird question-- forget I asked. Romanoff probably took it or something.” Tony worried at his lip for a moment, deep in thought, before turning back to Peter. “Anyway, how have you been? I know we text daily and whatnot but I haven’t seen you in person since the beginning of December.”

“Okay, over exaggerating just a bit.” Peter inwardly sighed from relief, happy the topic changed. “I was here only a few days ago, Mr. Stark.”

“Nope! Last I saw you was…” The man paused to think for a moment, “December seventh.”

“No way it was that long ago. Besides, how did you even remember that? You can’t remember what you had for breakfast.” Peter chuckled.

“It was! You stayed over for a night or two after your little almost-froze-to-death situation and then you went home! You couldn’t get up here the next week because of the snow storm and then the following week you were stressed with studying for your finals. Christmas week you spent with your aunt,” Tony spread his arms out, gesturing at Peter, “and here we are. December 26.”

Peter gawked. It hasn’t really been that long, has it? He thought back to his last few visits at the compound: He had worked with Tony on a Christmas gift for Pepper, helped out a new intern in one of the lower level labs, decorated the main living room for Christmas-  _ ‘Oh,’ _ Peter subconsciously brought a hand to hold his right wrist, the ghost of a burning sensation washing over it for a few moments.

Peter didn’t know what happened that night after he woke up in the Medbay. The night he was left alone and a man-- no, a  _ thing _ attacked him. It didn’t make any sense. One moment there was this towering figure intent on killing Peter, and the next he was waking back up in the Medbay just how the night had started. Only then, he had chased Tony down before he truly was left all alone in the building and asked to go to the Manhattan tower with him. Since that night, Peter always felt this dull tingling in the nape of his neck. Like someone was watching him or following him. He refused to leave aunt May alone in the apartment, and would call Ned to come over if May was going out. Anxiety over where and what that stranger was had been consuming him, but with Christmas on his mind he had nearly forgotten about it.

It was the unexplainable, and if there was one thing Peter had learned, it was to stop questioning the unexplainable. 

“And F.Y.I.,” Tony cleared his throat, “I had gluten free waffles for breakfast.”

Peter shook himself from his thoughts, that nervous sensation settling in the back of his neck once more. “Good for you! You’re finally caring about your diet.” He teasingly grinned.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Stark furrowed his eyebrows.

“Nothing, nothing!” Peter waved him off.

“Peter,”

“It’s sarcasm, Mr. Stark. That was sarcasm.”

Tony sighed and put his head in his hands. “Why did I ever introduce you to sarcasm. The monster I created.”

“I knew what sarcasm was!” Peter retorted.

“Says the super-sentient boy who works out and swings around Queens everyday that took ‘you’re not very athletic, are you?’ as a serious statement.”

“Listen-”

* * *

It had been several hours since Tony and Peter settled in Tony’s private workshop to begin working on unfinished projects. Every drop of a screw or creaking noise from an old and rusty suit made Peter jump, and the concerned glances from Tony every ten seconds was not helping lower his anxiety. After remembering the… ‘incident’... from the last time he was in the compound, Peter had been on edge and his heart felt like it was beating too hard to be humanly healthy. His enhanced hearing picked up on employee’s footsteps two buildings over, the clicking of Pepper’s keyboard upstairs, the turning page of a book that Captain Rogers was most likely reading.  _ ‘What is wrong with me?’  _ Peter worried on his lip.

“You okay, Peter?” Tony set down his tablet. 

“Hm?” Peter hummed back, feigning okayness.

“You’ve been a little… How should I say this--” Tony drummed his fingers on the table. “--Spacey.”

“I’m not spacey.”

“Yes, you are.” 

“I’m just,” Peter pause to think of an excuse, looking around the room for an answer. “Tired.”

Tony shifted in his seat. “Okay maybe ‘spacey’ wasn’t the right word. Jumpy is a little more accurate.”

“I’m not jum-” Peter was cut off by the sound of something hitting the floor, the  _ tink _ of the thing making him tense and his eyes dart to where it came from. A little bolt rolled harmlessly under a nearby workbench. Peter’s gaze shifted to Tony, whose arm was outstretched as though he had just dropped the bolt and his face unimpressed. 

“You were saying?” Tony raised his eyebrows.  
“Fine. Maybe I’m a little jumpy. I’m just on edge.” Peter put his face in his hands, his elbows balancing on the edge of his worktable. 

“On edge,” Tony repeated, huffing out a small laugh. Peter shot him a betrayed look. “No, no hey! I get it. Trust me, I of all people understand. Our line of work is--” He held up his hand to make a ‘so-so’ gesture, “sketchy.”  
“Yeah,” Peter sighed, his eyes squeezed shut.

_ On the floor just out of reach from the medbay doors. Cold polished concrete stinging his ripped skin, his muscles aching and body beginning to run low on adrenaline. The ‘thing’ stood over Peter, a dark and menacing shadow clenching its fists. The firestoker glinted in its blood-crusted claws. _

“Peter,” Tony murmured, barely above a whisper. He placed a gentle hand on Peter’s back. “What’s up?”

Peter looked up at Tony, his watery eyes catching Tony’s warm, brown ones. He debated for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell his mentor the truth. It would be so much easier if he knew. And Peter would be safer. The people he  _ loved _ would be safer.  _ ‘But what if I had imagined all of it? What if it was fake? They’ll think I’m-- Think I’m going crazy.’  _ Peter shut his eyes again and pressed his palms hard against them. He didn’t let up on the pressure until he saw visions of dancing white lines. “Just nightmares, is all. Had a scare the other night.” His voice was quiet.

Tony nodded his head in thought, then patted Peter’s back. “Alright, I think this is enough work for today. Pepper will have my throat if she finds out we’ve been working for--” He glanced over to a digital clock, doing quick calculations in his head to see how much time had passed. “Seven hours? Jesus, kid! C’mon, let’s get out of here before FRIDAY forces us out.” 

Peter gathered his things and trailed Tony out of the glass double doors protecting the lab. Walking away from his spot at the workbench, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being stared at. Peter’s lower back burned, and his body shuddered. The tingling in the nape of his neck from earlier returned. Peter quickly looked back at the lab, double checking that no one was there. All he saw was the faint shine of the fallen bolt from earlier nestled under the desk on the floor. Peter bit his lip.

It’s just anxiety.


End file.
